


Underworld

by MrProphet



Series: Mythic Noir [4]
Category: Guys and Dolls - Damon Runyon, Sumerian Mythology
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-22
Updated: 2017-04-22
Packaged: 2018-10-22 15:57:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10700292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrProphet/pseuds/MrProphet





	Underworld

One night I am sitting at the bar and sipping whisky, as is my habit when I am in the money. On this particular night, I am very much in the money, having done conspicuous well at the Friday race meet at Eridu, and so I am doing my drinking at the House of Heaven, which is a better class of speak-easy with a better class of whisky than I am used to, and perhaps it is this that makes me careless. You see, when I am drinking bad whisky I get hot and mean and keep my wad tight to my chest. But when I am drinking good whisky, I only get warm and mellow, and I am free with my money and more free still with my words.

Naturally, it is because of this freeness that while I am sitting there, the most beautiful doll I have ever seen saunters up to me like I am Sky Masterson and asks me to buy her a drink. Straight out I take my wallet, all fat with bacon, and lay it on the counter in front of her. 'Take it,' I tell her, 'but leave me my heart.'

She laughs and I walk out of there, sans wallet, sans doll, and I swear off the whisky – good and bad – from that night to this.

Now, no doubt some guys will be telling me I am cracked to be giving that fat wad of clams to a doll just because she asks me for a drink, but that is because I have not told you that the doll in question, was Inanna.

Now, there's a certain school of thought that says there ain't no such thing as a doll it's safe to cross, but if such a beast ever exists then she has nothing in common with Inanna. Now, she is an heiress, and there have always been those who are thinking that being born with money means she must be soft. Some folks try to scam her, some try to seduce her and some try to roll her, and all of them find themselves in one of two ways and in one of two places: face down in the Tigris or belly up in the Euphrates.

But worst and unluckiest of all are those poor saps that Inanna take it into her head she is going to like for a while. Let me tell you a story about the unluckiest of all these poor rubes, a country hick named Dumuzi who was dumb enough to marry a doll about a bijillion miles out of his league.

At the time this hick is married to Inanna, she is settling down to a tidy little turf war with another deadly doll by the name of Ereshkigal. If Inanna controls the whole of every business in Uruk that is barely legal, then Ereshkigal controls everything that isn't legal at all. They are calling her the Queen of the Underworld, and that is something that is likely to be annoying to a woman like Inanna, who likes to think that she is the one and only queen.

So, on the one hand she has this new husband, and she lavishes every luxury on him and pets him and strokes him like a puppy dog. On the other she has this enemy, with whom she is forever going at it like a couple of she cats forced to share lodgings and one sardine a day.

Now, one day Inanna sends a message to Ereshkigal saying: “So much is too much; let's smoke a peace pipe and split this city between us.” She gets dressed up all fancy, leaves her penthouse in the Eridu tower, way above the House of Heaven, and she goes over to Ereshkigal's place in the third sub-basement of the Irkalla building. She swans in like a queen, expecting Ereshkigal to be so amazed that she bows down immediately, never suspecting that underneath her dress, Inanna is packing a pair of Roscos.

Now, you should understand that Ereshkigal is not like Inanna. She does not have a rich daddy and she has not made her way in the world by marrying a succession of wealthy husbands, each of whom appears to be even more unlucky than the last, to judge by the speed with which they succumb to some tragic accident following their wedding. No, this Ereshkigal was born on the wrong side of the wrong tracks and fought for everything she ever had. She sees Inanna, all dolled up to the nines, and she sees red.

She has Inanna grabbed by her boys and stripped, and when they tear off the dress, out fall the Roscos. “So, you come here, into my home, to take me out,” Ereshkigal says, and she has Inanna tied up and hung on a hook for all to see.

So, time passes and Ereshkigal gets another visitor; Inanna's consigliere, Ninshubar, who brought a whole heap of loot from Inanna's family to buy her freedom.

“Sure,” Ereshkigal agrees, “but it was her that started everything, so I want a little extra. I let her go, I want someone else in return; she's going to leave a space on my wall after all.”

So she cuts Inanna down and cuts her loose, but sends five of her boys with her to bring someone back in exchange. They go back to the Eridu tower and up to Inanna's penthouse, where they try to grab Inanna's hairdresser, her beautician and her accountant, but Inanna won't let them go. “These are my people,” she says. “They are weeping all the time I'm away.”

And then they get to her bedroom, and there's Dumuzi, and there also is the night maid and the room service girl and all in all it don't look good.

“That's the one,” Inanna says, and Ereshkigal's goons grab Dumuzi and drag him away, kicking and pleading all the while.

So, that's what happens to the guys Inanna decides to like, and that's why I don't shed a tear over that fat wallet full of bacon.


End file.
